


Crowley May Care

by MizErie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mark of Cain, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9702065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizErie/pseuds/MizErie
Summary: With the Mark of Cain driving him, Dean calls the only being he can think of to help him satisfy its thirst. Crowley is more than happy to oblige.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is SO out of my comfort zone, so please be nice. I'm trying something new.

Dean flexes his right arm subconsciously, the spell burned into his flesh there dragging him in. The beast needs feeding; it has for the past eight days. It's twisting and knotting and tearing the Winchester's guts, languidly driving the brother to insanity. Dean crosses his room in the bunker and picks up his cell phone. While clenching his jaw, he dials the number of the only one he knows can help him right now: 666.

"Come on, Crowley! Pick up!"

In a long-abandoned building several states over, the ringtone cuts through the sound of demon screams, and Crowley jerks his phone up, annoyed at the interruption until he sees "Not Moose" on his screen.

"Take over here," he instructs one of his minions. After walking out of earshot, Crowley answers.

"Hello, Dean."

There's a pause.

"Crowley. I need you, man. You know I hate saying this, but you're the only one that can help me right now." Dean waits for a reply but gets none. "Crowley, you son of a bitch!"

"Ooh, name calling. You must be flattering me, Squirrel," the King of Hell answers from behind him, and Dean spins around. "Now what is it I can do for my bestie, eh?"

Dean stares at Crowley defiantly, only moving to rub the Mark. He finally sighs, knowing he has no other option; it's either this or killing something ... or _someone_.

"Damn it, Crowley. You did this to me! And now I can't turn it off!"

The demon smirks. "And you want me to do what exactly? Rub your dangly bits until you calm down?" he asks sarcastically.

"Yes," Dean spits like it's hard for him to say. Not being the answer he was expecting, Crowley furrows his brow.

"Excuse me?"

The Winchester shifts on his feet. "I need some sort of release here, but I can exactly just ask anyone! I'll end up killing them!"

Crowley thinks for a moment. Having a Winchester owe him a favor could be quite beneficial. But it brings with it a whole mess of problems, mainly keeping Moose and Cas from learning of it.

"So what do you propose, a deal of some sort?"

"Crowley!"

"Oh, calm down, Squirrel. I'm merely saying that I need something out of this too. After all, I can get my rocks off elsewhere."

Dean growls lowly, and Crowley knows he has him.

"I scratch your back ... or in this case, where your bathing suit goes... and you scratch my back, Dean."

"Fine. What do you want?"

Crowley can see that the older brother grows more impatient, more desperate, by the second. He loosens his grey tie and leans his head from side to side, popping his neck. The King of Hell looks back up at Dean, a devilish grin on his lips.

"I want a favor."

"Like what?"

"When I know, I'll tell you."

Dean tightens the muscles in his jaw for a moment. "Fine."

"So, shall we seal it with a kiss then, for old time's sake?"

Dean doesn't say another word. He swiftly crosses the distance between them, grabs Crowley's head in both hands, and crashes their lips together hard. The demon can feel the need in the rough kiss, the way Dean keeps opening and pressing his mouth harder against Crowley's, the way his tongue keeps trying to cross the line into uncharted territory. Dean finally breaks the contact but doesn't step out of Crowley's personal space.

"There. You happy?"

"Very. So how do you want to go about this coitus?"

The Winchester puts his now shaky hands on Crowley's chest and runs his hands under the lapel of the black suit jacket, pushing it off the demon's shoulders and into the floor. Crowley looks down at his coat on the floor and then back to Dean, slightly annoyed.

"I'll have it dry cleaned," Dean states as he begins taking the paisley tie off his soon-to-be victim. Once in hand, he takes it to the door, hangs it on the doorknob, and shuts the door. Crowley raises an eyebrow at him, but Dean ignores the look and sets about removing all of the King of Hell's clothes until he's down to only his boxers.

"Well this seems a bit one-sided, don't you think, Squirrel?"

Dean smiles sadistically as his eyes narrow. "I had planned on it," the brother says, but he quickly pulls his shirt off. Dean drops his jeans to the floor easily, his belt buckle making a heavy _clunk_ as it hits the marble floor. He kicks them off with his shoes.

"On the bed," the Winchester demands. "Take your underwear off first."

Crowley walks toward the bed but instead presses his almost naked body against the side of Dean's completely bare one.

"What, don't have the ballocks to remove them yourself?" the demon says, almost a whisper.

Dean growls menacingly again and wraps a hand around the demon's throat. He can feel Crowley swallow under his palm, but he knows he's not a threat by the grin on the King's face.

"You know I like it when you play rough," the demon taunts. "After all, a little torture is great foreplay." Crowley gets exactly what he wants.

Dean roughly push him down onto the bed and rips Crowley's boxers in several places as he takes them off in a hurry. The brother wastes no time; within seconds, Dean slicks himself up with spit, pushes the demon's knees up, and sinks his dick completely inside of Crowley. The King makes a pleased sound, and Dean isn't sure if he likes the sound the demon just made or hates it. But the brother doesn't give it much thought. Dean starts pounding into Crowley using his full body weight.

The King of Hell runs his fingertips down Dean's side, and the brother brushes them off with a flick of his hand. Crowley keeps trying to touch Dean - his short hair and rounded hips, his arched back and muscular thighs, his ripped abdomen and heaving chest - but the Winchester won't allow it. The demon finally ceases his efforts and wraps his legs around Dean's thighs, pulling the brother deeper into him.

"Fuck!" Dean snaps, not getting the satisfaction he's looking for. He rakes his blunt fingernails over the demon's chest, leaving dark red scratches. Crowley groans darkly, and the Winchester finally gets a twinge of pleasure in his gut. He leans over the King and bites his collarbone until he draws blood, and Crowley growls in both lust and pain. A stronger feeling of titillation rises in Dean, and he knows he needs more of the demon's vocalizations.

Dean stops ramrodding Crowley for a moment. "Beg me to stop," he orders.

"It's too bad Moose took away your black peepers. I'm willing to bet they'd have been even prettier right now."

"Beg!"

Crowley scoffs. "I beg no one for anything. And especially for things I don't even want." With that, Dean takes notice of the lechery barely hidden behind the demon's features, of the rock hard cock pressing into his stomach, and the realization that Crowley is actually enjoying this encounter hits him hard.

The brother pulls out of Crowley long enough to manhandle the demon onto his stomach and then forcibly thrusts back into him. Dean grabs a handful of Crowley's hair and pulls hard on it, pulling the King's ear to his mouth.

"Now beg or the deal's off." Crowley will never admit this to anyone, but he likes this willful, controlling side of the Winchester.

"No. Stop. Please, " the demon mumbles with hardly any emotion.

Dean slams Crowley's head down, leaning some his weight on his hand and pressing one side of the King's face into the mattress. Crowley is smirking.

"Like you mean it!"

"Dean, stop!" the demon screams, half a smile still playing on his lips. It's enough for the Winchester though; Dean knows that Crowley is merely playing a part, that the King of Hell has the power to stop this at any time.

The brother slams into the demon mercilessly again. Crowley whines and whimpers and screams his protests in a manner that seems authentic, and finally Dean is getting what he needs. He digs his nails into the skin covering the King's shoulder blades, dragging them down his back, and the groan ripped from Crowley's throat actually sounds honest. The Winchester can't stop from moaning in reply.

Suddenly they both hear quick footsteps and then the rattle of the locked doorknob.

"Dean?" Sam calls as he pounds on the door. "Dean!"

Crowley raises his head like he's going to reply. The older Winchester grabs a handful of the King's hair and smashes the demon's face into the bed, while Dean's other hand twists one of Crowley's arms around backwards between them, pinning it to his back.

"Tie, Sammy! Tie!"

There's no reply, and Dean begins to think his brother walked off.

"Dean, is this ... is this _Crowley's_ tie?"

The King of Hell pushes against the weight of the hand on his head, and Dean moves his hips several times to placate Crowley another minute. The demon seems pleased, moaning like a porn star into the mattress.

"It's a tie, Sammy. It means stay out!"

Dean can almost hear his brother rolling his eyes and shaking his head, but Sam walks off regardless, his footsteps fading into silence. The older Winchester looks down as the King of Hell starts fucking up onto the cock inside of him, and Dean finds himself genuinely aroused at the sight. Crowley has one arm over his head, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. Most of his face is pushed into the mattress with the help of Dean's hand. The brother's other hand has a tight grip on the demon's arm pinned behind him, under which are the scratches Dean left in Crowley's flesh.

But what bothers - or really, tantalizes - Dean the most is Crowley's ass stuck up in the air. The Winchester watches it move, watches the hole swallow his dick again and again, unsure why he's even staring at it. He makes himself snap out of the trance and meets one of the demon's upward thrusts with enough violence to knock them both off their knees. But Dean doesn't stop. With his hands still in place, he pulls Crowley back onto his cock as he rams forward, no longer caring if the demon begs or not.

It's not long before Dean feels his release building, spurring him on further. He moves his hands to the crests of the demon's hips, freeing the King of Hell to move with him. Crowley pushes back with the same might of Dean's pulling on his hips, and the thwacks of skin hitting bare skin echo around the room.

"Dean, I -" Crowley begins, only to be cut off by his entire body tensing. Despite the demon twitching and jerking, Dean keeps thrusting into him. Crowley's _ah_ 's and _oh_ 's and hitches in his breathing fuel the fire in Dean's gut. The Mark of Cain burns in the Winchester's flesh, and Dean claws at Crowley's hips for more purchase as he reaches the pinnacle of this forbidden act.

While Dean ruts his hips against the demon's ass in an almost primal way, a dark and depraved moan tears itself free from the Winchester's deepest parts. Under him, Crowley laughs in satisfaction that Dean still has some wickedness in him yet. The brother's shuddering finally subsides, and he collapses heavily onto the King of Hell, his head resting on the demon's shoulder. Crowley turns his face toward him, Dean's short hair tickling his lips.

"So does this make me your mistress?" Dean hears Crowley ask as sounds of their debauchery still echo in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my little experiment! If you like it, please leave me a comment or kudos. If you'd like to see me write other Supernatural stories, give me a few ideas. I wrote this one a while ago, after Sam cured Demon Dean, because I just think Crowley and Dean make a good pairing and I wanted to feel out that relationship since Demon Dean was such a short arc.


End file.
